Tuesday, November 5, 2013
It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.
Wet and blustery. The first of the winters Atlantic fronts bringing wave after wave of heavy rain. Bob and Sophie seem oblivious to the storm. Perfect PON weather for digging , for charging round in search of fallen branches or for chasing errant squirrels.
'The font' is less than keen on having two energetic, dripping, mud balls traipsing through the house in search of adventure . They're finally bribed into settling down in the kitchen. Synchronised heads following every movement. Their first taste of cauliflower cheese. Both bowls licked dish washer clean . Bob does a soft shoe shuffle of delight. His '' I has died and gone to heaven " routine.
In the afternoon we go for an hours walk along the old roman road in the valley. It's pouring. Achiltibuie weather but warmer. 'The font', Angus and two enthusiastic PON's sauntering along line abreast. The cheerful farmers wife stops her little Peugeot and asks if we're alright. Clearly, as far as the French are concerned only the certifiably insane or foreigners would go out for a walk in this weather.